


even if it's a lie (just look at me)

by gwiyeosang



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Yeosang is oblivious, at least no one dies for once, choi san has no confidence, kim hongjoong is a magic user, mentioned yeosang/wooyoung, no beta we die like men, pining san, probably, yeosang and san suck at communicating properly, yeosang is a little shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:33:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21525268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwiyeosang/pseuds/gwiyeosang
Summary: San just wants Yeosang to notice him. Hongjoong could help by giving him a potion or casting a spell, but that would be too easy. Now San has to figure out how to get Yeosang to like him while keeping KQ from knowing.
Relationships: Choi Jongho/Kim Hongjoong, Choi San/Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Jung Wooyoung/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	1. Chapter One

  


“Hyung, _please_ ,” San pleaded, on his knees with his hands raised. He was completely desperate for help.

Hongjoong leaned back against the couch, biting his lip in thought. He _could_ help the man in front of him, he supposed, but what would he get in return, other than a guilty conscience? As much as he loved his friends, he had a reputation to think of. He had to remain stern.

“San, you’re asking for a lot. If Yeosang wanted you, would he not have come to you?” he asked bluntly, brushing his hair back. He watched as San considered that and immediately felt guilty. San’s eyes had dimmed considerably.

“I know he wouldn’t want me to be in his life like this,” the taller man agreed. “But I have to try! I would do anything for Yeosang!” And this was true. San gave everything up for his friends; his own confidence was at an all time low, despite his successful debut and comebacks, so seeing his friends smiles made him want to keep going. “He needs someone who would be able to keep him happy. Raise his confidence… Someone like—” His words cut off as thoughts drifted to a certain loud teammate.

“Wooyoung definitely does not want Yeosang,” Hongjoong stated firmly. He had seen him with Seonghwa earlier that day and there was definitely not any romantic love for anyone else between the two.

The leader sighed. He was not ready to take on these types of moments. Sure, he could tell them when they needed to take breaks, or practice, or go to vocalist training. He could tell his members to eat, to relax (though they would often scoff and tell him _he_ ’s the one who needed a break). He could write and produce songs that made people cry, jump up and down in excitement, and feel emotions that they haven’t felt for a while. But Hongjoong had no experience getting anyone to confess their feelings without the use of certain products only he, out of the eight members, could produce. Sure, spellcasters weren’t _unique_ in the music industries—some groups became popular because of magic entwined between tracks, but Hongjoong only used his own magic when it came to injuries and ailments to heal faster. He didn’t like to manipulate others into doing what he wanted them to do, especially not when it came to love. He did that once before, when he was younger, and it almost ruined everything.

“Tell him how you feel,” he tried reasoning. “I can’t do anything like that. It just isn’t something I want to be known for. And if Yeosang were to discover that what you’ve done—what we’ve done—he would never trust any of us again.”

San stood up, plastering a smile on his face. “I understand. You’re right. I’ll tell Yeosang how I feel… After you tell Jongho.”

Hongjoong choked as San left the room, closing the door behind him and laughing.

~*~*~*~

It was an excruciating practice for San. He felt each one of his muscles throb as he laid on the floor. It wasn’t anyone’s fault other than his own. He knew he didn’t need to dance as hard as he was, even though Wonderland was a hard dance, the one he was practicing (Sunrise) really wasn’t. Regardless of what he was feeling, how much he wanted to give up, he needed to please his fans, otherwise they could turn on him too. It hadn’t been that long since he debuted, less than a year and if already had a scandal of being lazy, the rest of the team would suffer.

He felt a towel land on his stomach and lifted his head. A lithe brunette tilted his head at him, and San swallowed. He wondered how long Yeosang had been watching—he had been alone in the practice room.

“You missed a step,” Yeosang laughed. “Well, I guess not missed, but you were late. Is it because no one is dancing with you? Are you feeling awkward? I can get Yunho to come show you the steps again.”

San shrugged, wiping the sweat from his neck. He knew Yeosang was teasing, in his blunt sort of way, but picking at his dance was something that he didn’t like anyone doing. He stood up, legs shaking from overexertion. He wondered what time it was and if the shower was free. Yeosang was still watching him, as though expecting an actual answer.

“Is there a reason you came here?” he asked.

“Oh. Hongjoong-hyung wanted you to know that Yunho and Mingi are cooking tonight, so prepare your stomach because who knows what creation they’re going to attempt.”

“Why isn’t Seonghwa-hyung cooking?” San drank from the water bottle that Yeosang held out.

“Apparently Seonghwa-hyung and Wooyoung are going to be having dinner elsewhere as the manager requested a meeting with the two of them….” Yeosang trailed off.

That could only mean one thing: Wooyoung and Seonghwa got caught and with how worried Yeosang looked, who knew what this meant for the team. For all they knew, they could wake up to bitter news from Naver about the termination of contracts and that would be the only thing said. Just Naver, because you know, that’s official. Hopefully the CEO would learn from other companies’ mistakes and that wouldn’t happen. If anything, at least he hoped Atiny would get an official announcement.

“Tell Joongie that he better have something available to pump our stomachs if that’s the case.”

Yeosang frowned harder at the response. While he knew San didn’t care too much about formalities, especially with the other 99 liners, he never once heard the dancer call Hongjoong anything but _hyung_ , regardless if he was around or not. He also knew that while Mingi and Yunho weren’t the best cooks of the group (that was left to Seonghwa and Hongjoong), San never once made a _poisoning_ joke. That was usually said by Wooyoung.

“I will let him know you said exactly that.” Yeosang’s voice was cooler than he intended, his worry getting the better of him. “Go get cleaned up. You smell.”

San huffed and pouted. “You would smell too if you actually practice—” He immediately shut up at the hurt look on Yeosang’s face before the other walked out of the studio without a backwards glance.

San knew Yeosang faced the same confidence issues he did, except it was much worse. While he at least got praised for his dancing (even having his own nickname from Atiny), Yeosang didn’t get much lines or center parts that let him showcase his skills. It was because of his confidence, but San didn’t need to knock him down and blame it on his lack of practice. Especially since Yeosang had sprained his wrist just before the new album’s release (though he didn’t let anyone know, San was just very observant when it came to the older male). He groaned in frustration.

 _Way to go, Choi_ , he thought. _How are you going to get Yeosang to like you back if you’re a miserable brat?_


	2. Chapter Two

A couple of days later, the eight members were preparing to go on stage, their dressing room filled with the smells of different hair product chemicals. San sighed as his personal stylist helped him insert a contact. It was one of his least favourite parts of being a singer; his prescription was too strong for regular contacts, so his vision was blurry. He hated that he wasn’t able to see his fans in front of him, but at least he was well-practiced and there shouldn’t be any mistakes from his blindness.

“All done.” His stylist smiled at him and helped him sit up, knowing his vision problems. He sighed and squinted, trying to make the blobs around him clearer.

“It’ll get better eventually,” Hongjoong promised. “We will make enough money to afford contacts with your prescription soon. Just try to endure it for now. You can take them off as soon as we’re off stage, no pressure. We have no other schedules tonight.”

San nodded, tugging on the supplied stage jacket. It was white with silver chains along the side, and it made his tan skin glow more than normal. He preferred the white costumes more than anything, simply because he was a bit proud of his skin tone, regardless of what people changed in his fan photos.

He felt a hand clamp on his shoulder and jumped, turning to look who it was. Seonghwa smiled at him and led him out onto the stage, helping him in the right position as if he was completely useless.

San hated everything.

~*~*~*~*~

It was a great performance and they received a win, which none of them were expecting at all. Hongjoong started crying as expected of their leader, and Mingi was full of smiles and jumping up and down. It was as though a dark cloud had lifted from their team.

“Thank you, Atiny!” Hongjoong’s voice rang out clearly, despite the tears that were falling. “We appreciate you and we will make sure to make you prouder!”

They were herded off the stage and San stumbled over someone’s shoe. “Ah! I’m sorry…” He bowed immediately.

“Don’t worry about it,” a low voice responded. “It was an accident.” San nodded and scurried to find his team members and get his glasses from his stylist.

Yeosang was waiting for him, holding the glasses that he desperately needed, and helped him remove the contacts. The older boy had been wearing contacts for most of his life and was the only one who San trusted to touch his eye. Even the stylists weren’t able to help him take them out. Putting them in was a different story. You just had to hold the contact, not pinch at an eyeball.

“Are you still upset with me?” Yeosang murmured.

“You’re the one who’s angry,” San responded. “You stormed out of the practice room and I haven’t even seen you since. You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I have been.” San didn’t expect an agreement and stared at him as Yeosang put the contacts in their container filled with solution. “I wanted to give you space. You were upset and I made things worse by teasing you. You did a good job today.”

“So did you.”

“Put your glasses on. It’s time to go.” Yeosang stepped back and washed his hands. San nodded and obeyed, wiping off most of his makeup. The two of them were the last in the car and San did not like the curious yet knowing look on Hongjoong’s face.

“Great job today, guys.” The leader grinned at them, exhaustion showing in his smile. “For celebration, I’ll order pizza to have it delivered. There’s something important I need us to do from now on though. There’s been tension in the group and though it seems resolved, we can’t have it happen. It’ll start to affect the group, which could cause people to leave… I don’t want that. So every week, we need to set up a meeting where we can discuss what’s been bothering us. Even if it’s something silly like leaving clothes on the flo—”

“That is not silly, and I tell you to pick up after yourself all the time,” Seonghwa interrupted. “Hongjoong is right though. We need to communicate better.”

Yeosang and San glanced at each other. They knew it was their fault for the sudden need of therapy weeks, and it made them feel terrible. Yeosang especially didn’t want to talk about what was bothering him. He didn’t like opening up to others, unless he was forced to in different variety shows. And even then, it was all in good humour. He didn’t want to actually say what was bothering him.

“Oh! I assume everything went well with the manager?” Yunho looked at Wooyoung and Seonghwa.

“Yeah.” Wooyoung coughed. “We told him that the fans really like the eight of us having skinship, and Seonghwa and I have awkward moments together, so we were trying to get more comfortable for the fans! We are banned from social networking right now though, and if we get caught again, there will be consequences.”

Mingi snorted, surprised that the manager even believed that. It’s entirely possible that the company just didn’t care though, and as long as they didn’t get caught by fans and the public, it’s no issue. He hoped that was the case, anyway. At least he and Yunho were discreet about their relationship. Mingi wasn’t even sure if the members knew they were together and had been since before the Ateez contract was signed.

The members trudged themselves inside the dorms talking amongst themselves about their win and how they would tell Eden. They left that up to Hongjoong since he produced with him. Unfortunately for the leader though, the key to the studio was safely in Yunho’s pocket. He wanted Hongjoong to actually sleep.

“Yunho, if you don’t give me my keys!” Hongjoong’s voice rose over the voices of the members and everyone turned to look at the duo.

“You need to sleep, hyung”, Yunho reasoned, crossing his arms. “You need to eat with us and you need to _rest_.”

“I need to start producing our next album. You know fans get bored easily; we can’t let them be.”

San rolled his eyes. “The fans aren’t going to give up on us that easily. They love us!”

“They love us _for now_. Give me the key.”

Yunho took the metal from his pocket and held them over Hongjoong’s head. “Reach for them. Take them from me.”

“Jeong Yunho! I am your _hyung_ , your _leader_. This is disrespectful!” Hongjoong whined, arms crossed. He hated that he was so short.

“What’s disrespectful is you not taking care of yourself. You’re supposed to be strong for us, and if you land yourself into the hospital, what good will that do for us? We can’t do anything without you.” Yunho grinned. “Eat the pizza and then go to bed, hyung.”

Hongjoong huffed, grabbed his plate, and then walked to his room. Jongho watched him before sighing.

“Yeosangie, play a game with us!” Wooyoung smiled bright. Yeosang looked at him, pizza cheese hanging from his lip (San wanted to die right there). “We’re going to play jacks.”

“I’ll pass. I think I’m just going to go to sleep now; I’m tired.” The other members looked at him with concern but nodded, letting him leave without questioning.

San waited a reasonable amount of time, laughing with Mingi and discussing video games with Yunho as time passed. It was about an hour before he went to check on Yeosang. He opened the door and was unsurprised to find the other boy playing with a drone instead of sleeping like he said.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Since when were Wooyoung and Seonghwa-hyung a thing?” Yeosang questioned, eyes focused on the drone.

“I think it’s a recent development.” San sat on the bed. “Does it matter?”

“No.”

“Is this something that will need to be discussed at the meeting?” San grinned.

“Absolutely not.”

“Am I seeing jealous Yeosang?”

“You’re blind; you can’t see shit.” Yeosang landed the drone onto his dresser and shut it off. “There’s no jealousy. I just don’t want the group dynamics to change.”

San could understand that. His own feelings for Yeosang were causing things to change and they weren’t even together. He decided to tease instead of revealing this though. “So… no jealousy? If you were jealous, who would it be of? Wooyoung, or Seonghwa hyung?”

Yeosang snorted. “If there was any jealousy at all, it would probably be of Wooyoung. Have you ever gotten a hug from Seonghwa hyung?” San had not. “They’re the best and Wooyoung is able to get them all to himself now. It’s honestly really selfish of him.”

San laughed, agreeing and ruffled the older boy’s hair. He felt lighter than he had in days, but Yeosang’s smile was putting butterflies in his stomach that he did not want to deal with tonight. Yeosang turned on a movie and slid over, allowing room for San to join him if he wanted to.

By the time Hongjoong did his nightly checks on the members, he found the two curled against each other asleep, Yeosang’s arm laying across San’s stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting somewhere... Maybe there will be a happy ending after all.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where I'm going with this anymore. It's such a happy story, or is planned to be, and I'm really bad at writing happy things. Hence why the delay. How does one writing happy, fluffy stuff?
> 
> Anyway, there's a bit of smut at the end. I am terrible at writing anything that isn't angst, so go easy on me.
> 
> This will probably be like 10 chapters at most? I'm trying to move plot along quickly.
> 
> Enjoy?

It was another day of early practice and a VLive scheduled later. Yeosang felt his arms die as they continued to do the same move over and over again. Hongjoong was _brutal_ if even the angle was slightly off. He wanted everything perfect. They couldn’t afford mistakes. Yunho wasn’t any better, being the dancer that helped teach them the moves.

“Choi San!” Yunho snapped, feeling frustrated himself. San looked at him, guilt apparent on his face. “Lift your leg higher! Use that flexibility that I know you have.”

San flushed and coughed while Mingi looked at his boyfriend in confusion. He trusted Yunho, but the way San looked led him to believe something was up. He would have to deal with it later. Hongjoong himself looked ready to kill them all.

Seonghwa paused the music, announcing a break. They all collapsed but Yunho shook his head at San. “Not you. Kick higher until you get it right. No music. Just keep doing it.”

“I—What? Yun—”

“No talking back. Do it.”

San sighed and obeyed the order, not wanting to start anymore arguments. He had enough of that recently. Hongjoong’s weekly meetings seemed to make everything worse rather than better. Somethings were really better off left unsaid. San lifted his leg, kicking higher and higher, beads of sweat rolling down his elongated neck. Don’t get him wrong; he understood why he needed to be in topnotch shape and he didn’t want to disappoint the fans but a kick being two inches too low wouldn’t make a difference. It’s not like he’d be able to kick as high in whatever clothing they’re going to be wearing anyway. Right now he was just wearing some grey sweats, allowing maximum flexibility and comfort.

Yeosang watched him, sipping water from his water bottle. He wanted to help but was worried if he stepped in, it would cause another argument. Everyone has been especially hard on San this era. He didn’t know what to do to help the boy without making him feel inadequate. And last time he helped San, San told him he didn’t practice enough. No, San could handle it himself.

Unfortunately for all eight members, San slipped after kicking up too high, the force of the kick combined with the slippery floor causing him to land hard. He hissed in pain, laying back and even Yunho looked concerned. Hongjoong rushed over to him, checking for injuries. San’s wrist, where he had caught himself, was already swelling.

“Oh no, baby....” He whispered. “Jongho, go get an ice pack. Let’s get the swelling down and then we’ll continue practice.” Jongho left, muttering to himself about bossy leaders. Hongjoong ignored it and kept examining the wrist. “We’ll wrap it too. I’m glad it’s just your wrist.”

San glared weakly. It wasn’t _just_ his wrist; it was his dominant hand. How was he supposed to sign autographs if his hand was in a bandage? He just hoped his hand was only swelling because of the impact and not because it was sprained or anything. Jongho came back with ice and a wrap and Hongjoong nursed the younger. He was a strict leader, but when it came to his members’ feelings and health, he immediately turned from leader to nurturing caregiver. For the most part.

Yunho sat next to the two and San didn’t need to look up to know he felt guilty. “I’m sorry. You got hurt because I pushed you too much. It won’t happen again.”

“You’re damn right it won’t.” San stood up frustrated. Yunho looked at him in disdain. “If one of us can’t get our legs raised up, or if we can’t do a certain move, don’t force us to go past our limits. It’s how injuries happen.”

No one dared to look at Mingi, who was still recovering from his back injury. Mingi huffed, complaining that he was fine now and they shouldn’t worry. No one believed him for a second.

“San, language.” Hongjoong warned, tidying up.

“Right. Sorry.” San sighed. Wooyoung glanced around before playing the music again, San sitting out of practice.

~*~*~*~

Yeosang wondered what it would be like to kneel in front of San like Hongjoong did while wrapping his wrist. However, while Hongjoong’s was innocent, Yeosang’s mind was not. He wanted to take care of the older in a different way, not that he would ever have the guts to tell San that. No, there was no way he would ever tell the younger boy that he wanted to be bent over, back blown out.

He rolled over in his bed and brushed his hair from his eyes, feeling frustrated. He didn’t know how long he would have the dorm to himself, but he had a _little_ problem that he needed to take care of. In fact, he was aching from the strain and all he thought of was his mouth closed around—

 _Stop it, Yeosang_. He scolded himself. He felt dirty thinking of his friend impurely, but he couldn’t help it. He sighed and went to the bathroom, hoping a shower would help.

Not to anyone’s surprise, it didn’t. In fact, all it did was conjure up thoughts of San and himself in the very shower. Yeosang whined loudly before giving in, reaching down to touch himself. He pretended that it wasn’t his hand giving feather light strokes, thumb brushing over the tip. Yeosang gasped and leaned against the bathroom tiles, his mind working through different scenarios as he worked himself. He pictured San over him, tugging him to completion. He pictured San and himself laying in bed on a lazy Sunday, San’s hand down Yeosang’s pajama pants as he whispered sweet nothings in his ear, husky from sleep.

Yeosang’s stomach tightened and he cried out San’s name after a particularly powerful, unintended stroke. His fingers followed the vein along the underside and he imagined it as San’s tongue. He grabbed at the tile, trying to grab something to steady himself as he whimpered. With a final stroke, Yeosang came with a groan.

He felt elated, as though he was floating, but also so very disgusted at himself.

He couldn’t believe he did that.

He couldn’t believe he wanted to keep doing that.

He only hoped nobody had returned to the dorm early and heard him.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea where this is going but it'll probably get angsty before it gets happy.  
> Also, shoutout to whoever can guess who the Naver article is mentioning.


End file.
